madnovel Chapter 286: Philippines vs Thailand (3)
Chapter 286: Philippines vs Thailand (3)
The fifteen-minute halftime break felt like a fast blink of an eye for the basketball players resting in the locker rooms. But for the fifty thousand Thai fans sitting in the hot stadium seats, those fifteen minutes felt like an eternity of painful waiting.
Loud, heavy pop music blasted through the giant stadium speakers. The music was designed to keep the energy up, to make people dance and smile. But nobody was dancing. The fans were whispering nervously to each other. Every single person in the building kept looking up at the giant electronic scoreboard hanging high above the center of the court.
The bright red numbers looked like a heavy, sad tombstone: PHILIPPINES 42 - THAILAND 24.
Deep inside the dark concrete tunnel, the Philippine Under-18 National Team slowly walked back out toward the bright wooden court. They did not run wildly. They did not jump up and down or scream with chaotic, hype-fueled energy like the Thai team usually did.
The Filipinos moved together in a perfectly straight, synchronized line. Their heads were down. Their faces were completely blank and flat, devoid of any early celebration. They looked like a group of serious mechanics walking into a garage to finish fixing a broken engine.
Coach Dante Baldomero stood perfectly still near the scorer's table. His arms were tightly folded across his chest. He looked at Tristan Herrera. The strict coach gave one single, slow nod of his head.
Execute the master plan.
On the opposite side of the court, the Thai star, Suphawat, was already standing on the wood. He had his hands resting heavily on his hips. Even though he had just rested for fifteen minutes, he was still breathing heavily. The playful, arrogant, confident smile that he wore in the first quarter was completely gone. Now, his face held a dark, intense, angry scowl.
Suphawat bent down and slapped the hard floor twice with his hands, trying desperately to rally his nervous teammates.
"Listen up right now!" Suphawat barked angrily at his giant center, Nattapong. "You need to set the screens much higher for me. If the Philippine defenders try to trap me, you must slip and run straight to the basket. I need more space to run!"
The referee holding the basketball stepped into the center circle. He blew his silver whistle.
The third quarter had officially begun.
Thailand took the ball out of bounds at the half-court line. Kittipong, their best shooting guard, caught the pass. He slowly dribbled the ball up the floor. His job was to hold the ball so Suphawat could run around freely and get open.
But the instant the ball was put into play, the entire Philippine defense completely shifted its shape.
Tristan Herrera, giant Gab Lagman, Marco Gumaba, and tall Josh Manio all moved together. They did not follow their assigned men. Instead, they quickly arranged themselves into a tight, highly disciplined square shape right inside the three-point line.
They formed The Box. They looked like an unbreakable blue wall.
And then, there was Joco Palencia.
Palencia did not stand in the box. He did not look at the basketball. He did not look at the rim. Instead, Palencia walked right up to Suphawat until they were standing mere inches away from each other. Palencia completely turned his back to the rest of the basketball court. He stared directly into Suphawat's chest.
It was called face-guarding. Palencia became Suphawat's dark shadow.
Suphawat looked incredibly confused. He tried to jog away toward the left side of the court. Palencia mirrored his exact movements perfectly, sliding his quick feet sideways and keeping his arms out wide.
Suphawat suddenly cut back fast to the middle. Palencia stayed absolutely glued to the front of Suphawat's red jersey. Suphawat lowered his shoulder and bumped Palencia hard, trying to push him away. Palencia absorbed the painful physical hit without yielding a single inch of space.
"What in the world is this?" Suphawat muttered angrily in English, trying desperately to push the Philippine defender away.
At the top of the three-point line, Kittipong was holding the basketball and panicking. He was completely used to just passing the ball to his amazing ace and letting Suphawat create magical plays. But right now, Suphawat was completely covered. He was trapped inside a human cage.
Kittipong frantically looked at his other Thai teammates. Chaiwat and Arthit were trying to get open, but they were perfectly covered by the four big men standing inside the blue Box.
The giant shot clock above the basket loudly ticked down.
8... 7... 6...
Kittipong had absolutely no idea what to do. Desperate, he tried to force a highly dangerous, bouncing pass inside to Nattapong near the basket.
Gab Lagman, the strongest man anchoring the bottom of the Box, anticipated the pass effortlessly. Gab took one large step forward right into the passing lane. He used his massive hands to snatch the basketball right out of the air.
Steal.
"Run right now!" Tristan commanded loudly, already sprinting down the right side of the court.
Gab did not dribble. He threw a massive, two-handed pass high over the heads of the retreating Thai defenders. Tristan caught the flying ball perfectly in stride.
Tristan did not even take a single dribble. He jumped up and softly tossed a high lob pass straight toward the metal rim.
Marco Gumaba, who was running fast right behind Tristan, jumped high into the air. He caught the floating ball with two hands and violently flushed it straight down through the net.
PHI 44 - THA 24
The entire stadium groaned deeply. It was a massive, collective sigh of total despair.
Thailand got the ball back and tried again.
This time, Suphawat was furious. He clapped his hands loudly and demanded that his teammates give him the ball all the way back in the backcourt, right near his own basket. He wanted to bring the ball up the floor by himself.
But Joco Palencia was a nightmare. He picked Suphawat up at ninety-four feet away from the basket. It was maximum, full-court pressure.
"You are not allowed to breathe without my permission today, Suphawat," Palencia grunted quietly, swiping his fast hands at the bouncing basketball.
Suphawat did a fast crossover dribble. He tried to use his elite, lightning-fast speed to simply blow right past the annoying defender. But Palencia was very smart. Palencia was not actually trying to steal the ball; his only job was to force Suphawat to work incredibly hard for every single inch of the wooden floor.
Palencia bumped him, slid his feet, and stayed right in front. By the time Suphawat finally crossed the half-court line, he was breathing very heavily, and there were only 14 seconds left on the shot clock.
Completely exhausted and highly frustrated, Suphawat waved his hand. He called for a high pick-and-roll screen with his center, Nattapong.
As Nattapong ran up to set the heavy screen, the Philippine defense executed Coach Baldomero's secret trap perfectly.
Giant Gab Lagman suddenly lunged forward completely out of the Box. He joined Palencia, and the two of them instantly formed a massive double-team trap right on top of Suphawat.
Trapped near the sideline boundary line with two huge players surrounding him, Suphawat panicked. He leaped into the air, desperately looking around for an open teammate. He tried to throw a difficult, curving hook pass right over Gab's massive wingspan.
It was a terrible idea. The pass was instantly deflected by Gab's long fingertips. The heavy basketball fluttered weakly into the air.
Tristan Herrera ran forward and easily pounced on the loose ball, securing the possession for the Philippines.
"Slow the game down," Tristan signaled calmly, raising one hand high into the air. He looked down the court and saw the Thai players desperately scrambling to run back on defense. Their mouths were open, and their lungs were burning. "Make them work hard in the half-court."
Tristan slowly dribbled the basketball to the top of the key. He waited patiently. He looked briefly at the blue System interface flashing quietly in his peripheral vision.
[System Stat: Opponent Physical Fatigue - Extremely High]
[System Stat: Philippine Team Synergy - 94%]
[System Recommended Play: Heavy Post Isolation]
Tristan pointed a long finger right at Josh Manio. "Get big down there, Josh!"
Manio nodded. He walked down to the right block, right next to the basket. He bent his knees and used his heavy weight to establish a deep, powerful position against Nattapong.
Tristan threw a perfect, sharp bounce pass right into Manio's chest.
The seven-foot-tall Filipino giant caught the ball. He took one single, powerful dribble, forcefully backed his tired defender down, and then quickly spun toward the baseline. He jumped up and shot a completely uncontested jump hook.
Swish.
PHI 46 - THA 24
The Thai head coach leaped frantically off his wooden bench. He signaled for a timeout. He was already screaming angrily at his players before they even reached the sideline chairs.
The Philippine huddle was completely calm and quiet. It was a very stark, strange contrast to the wild yelling and panic happening on the other end of the court.
"Drink your water," Coach Baldomero ordered strictly, personally handing Joco Palencia a cold plastic bottle. "You are doing your job completely perfectly, Joco. You are acting like a blood-sucking leech. Do not let that boy touch the basketball. The rest of you, keep the Box tight. They will try to shoot over our wall. Let them shoot. I want to see if their weak role players actually have the mental courage to beat us."
Tristan wiped his sweaty face with a thick white towel. He looked quietly across the court.
Suphawat was sitting heavily on the Thai bench. He had a large white towel completely draped over his head to hide his face. He was just staring blankly down at his expensive basketball shoes. The famous Thai Ace was being systematically dismantled and destroyed. He was not being beaten by a team that was faster than him; he was being broken by an impenetrable, highly suffocating, boring structure.
"He is going to start forcing bad shots," Tristan told his team, keeping his voice low. "When he finally gets the ball, fully expect him to throw up wild, crazy three-pointers to try and get his home crowd back into the game. Box out hard near the rim. Give them absolutely zero second chances."
When the timeout ended, Thailand came back onto the floor. They tried to run a highly complex flare screen play just to get Suphawat open for one second.
The trick worked for a tiny fraction of a second. Suphawat managed to catch the ball far out on the left wing.
But before he could even turn his tired shoulders squarely to the basket, Palencia was already running and crashing right into his personal airspace.
With the heavy shot clock ticking down fast, Suphawat did exactly what Tristan had predicted. Driven by anger and pride, Suphawat forced a heavily contested, terribly off-balance three-pointer from 28 feet out.
It was a completely ugly shot. The ball barely grazed the very front of the metal rim.
Josh Manio easily grabbed the missed rebound with two massive hands. He flared his sharp elbows out wide to protect the ball from anyone trying to steal it.
Tristan took the safe outlet pass. The Philippine Orbit offense whirred back to life like a perfectly oiled machine.
Tristan slowly pushed the pace, keeping everything strictly under his total control. He probed the weak defense, driving hard into the painted area just to draw the eyes of three terrified Thai defenders. Without even looking sideways, Tristan whipped a violent, perfect behind-the-back pass directly to Marco Gumaba, who was waiting in the corner.
Marco caught the ball safely. The Thai defender, Kittipong, panicked. He jumped and flew at Marco in a totally desperate attempt to block the shot.
Marco calmly pump-faked. Kittipong went flying completely past him in the air, crashing hilariously into the first row of sports photographers sitting on the floor.
Marco took one slow, calm dribble to his left. He reset his feet perfectly, aimed, and fired the wide-open three-pointer.
Bang.
PHI 49 - THA 24
It was now a massive 25-point lead. The giant Nimibutr Stadium was so incredibly quiet that the squeaking of the players' rubber shoes on the hardwood floor echoed loudly like sharp gunshots.
The next two minutes of the game became an absolute masterclass in cruel psychological warfare.
Thailand's entire offensive system completely unraveled and fell apart. With their hero, Suphawat, completely erased from the game by Palencia's relentless face-guarding defense, the other Thai players hesitated. They caught the ball and passed up wide-open shots, completely terrified of missing the shot and taking the blame for losing. They nervously over-dribbled the ball right into the strong teeth of the Philippine Box defense. This resulted in easily stripped basketballs and embarrassing shot-clock violations.
On the exact other end of the court, Tristan Herrera was operating his team with cold, perfect, surgical precision.
Tristan was not even looking to shoot the ball himself anymore. He was just feeding his hungry teammates, keeping the entire Orbit system fully engaged and happy.
He ran a simple pick-and-pop play with Aekley Vicente. Vicente caught the pass and nailed a smooth, long two-point shot.
Tristan threw a perfect pass to Gab Lagman, who was rolling hard to the rim. Gab finished the play with a highly powerful, two-handed monster dunk that rattled the entire hoop stanchion.
Tristan even set up his tired defender, Palencia, for a sneaky backdoor layup. It was Tristan's way of fully rewarding the defensive player for his incredibly exhaustive, painful work on the other end of the floor.
PHI 57 - THA 28
With exactly 4:12 left in the third quarter, Suphawat finally snapped. His mind broke.
As Palencia ran closely next to him, bumping him slightly while he was trying to cut across the painted lane, Suphawat stopped running. He turned around, raised both of his hands, and violently shoved Joco Palencia extremely hard in the center of the chest.
Palencia stumbled backward from the hard push. He immediately threw both of his hands high up into the air to clearly show the referees that he was not fighting back or retaliating.
Twweeeet!
The closest referee blew his whistle immediately and aggressively pointed his finger.
"Offensive Foul! Number 1, Thailand!" the referee shouted loudly.
The massive home crowd booed, but it was a very weak, half-hearted, defeated sound. They knew their star player was losing his mind.
Tristan calmly walked over to Palencia. He reached out his hand and pulled his teammate up by the blue jersey.
"That was a really good job," Tristan said quietly into Palencia's ear. "You completely broke his spirit."
Palencia grinned a huge, happy smile, even though he was gasping heavily for air. "My legs literally feel like they are made of heavy lead stone, Captain. I am so tired. But it is totally worth the pain just to see that highly defeated look on his face."
Coach Baldomero watched from the sideline. He clearly saw Palencia's deep physical exhaustion. Playing the "Chaser" role in a Box-and-One defense required absolutely superhuman stamina, and Joco had given everything he had.
"Palencia, come out. Take a rest," Baldomero commanded. "Galang, get in there."
Ash Galang quickly sprinted onto the bright court. Ash was two full inches taller than Palencia, and he had a much wider wingspan.
"You have the exact same assignment, Ash," Tristan said firmly as they all lined up for the inbound pass. "You are the new shadow. Do not let him breathe for even one second."
Suphawat looked up and saw the player substitution. He thought he could easily capitalize on the new, taller defender. He immediately clapped his hands and called for the ball. He used a very hard, fast crossover dribble to try and shake Galang loose.
But Ash Galang used his long body beautifully. He did not try to run fast and stay completely in front of Suphawat's quick feet. Instead, Ash stayed exactly in front of the basketball, constantly using his incredibly long arms to disrupt the passing angles and actively contest the dribble.
Suphawat managed to forcefully push his way forward and get a desperate shot off. It was a tough, wild, leaning mid-range jumper.
It heavily clanged off the back iron of the rim. Miss.
Tristan leaped up and easily secured the long, bouncing rebound. He slowly pushed the ball up the exact middle of the floor.
As he crossed half-court, Tristan looked ahead. He saw Suphawat slowly jogging back on defense. The Thai star had his head hanging completely down, staring at the floor. His entire body language was practically screaming the word defeat.
Tristan decided it was the perfect time to violently twist the knife.
Tristan did not hold his hand up to run a team play. Instead, he aggressively waved his left hand, telling all of his teammates to completely clear out and flatten the court. He sent them all to the baseline.
Tristan wanted Suphawat completely alone, one-on-one, right at the top of the key.
The Thai Ace looked up and clearly saw the isolation play forming. A tiny spark of pride finally flickered in his dark eyes. Suphawat dropped down into a very low, aggressive defensive stance. He angrily slapped the wooden floor with his hands.
Tristan brought the ball up very slowly, casually bouncing it.
[System Stat: Ego Meter - 95%]
[System Skill Activated: The Architect's Gaze]
Everything slowed down in Tristan's vision. He coldly and carefully analyzed Suphawat's physical stance. Thanks to the System's vision, Tristan noticed a tiny flaw. The Thai guard was slightly favoring his right leg. He was heavily overcompensating because his left leg was completely exhausted from constantly pushing off the floor to try and escape Palencia's defense for the last six minutes.
His left side was totally weak.
Tristan initiated the attack. He hit Suphawat with a vicious, incredibly fast in-and-out dribble using only his left hand, completely selling a fake drive to the weak side of the court.
Suphawat bit extremely hard on the fake. He panicked and shifted his entire body weight over to block the drive.
Instantly, Tristan snatched the basketball back. He executed a massive, violent crossover dribble. The move was so sharp and so fast that his rubber shoes squeaked loudly, sounding exactly like a sharp whip cracking in the silent arena.
Suphawat's tired ankles completely betrayed him. His heavily exhausted legs simply could not handle the sudden, violent change of physical direction.
He stumbled sideways. His eyes went wide. His hands instinctively reached out toward the empty air, desperately trying to find balance.
But there was nothing to hold onto. Suphawat crashed heavily onto his side, falling completely down to the hardwood floor.
It was a brutal Ankle Breaker.
The entire stadium of fifty thousand people let out a massive, collective, highly horrified gasp.
Tristan stood completely alone at the top of the three-point line. He looked coldly down at the fallen, broken prodigy of Thailand. Tristan did not rush his shot. He did not panic. He literally took one full, slow second to perfectly set his feet and carefully align his broad shoulders directly with the metal rim.
He shot the basketball.
It felt absolutely perfect leaving his fingertips.
Knowing it was perfect, Tristan literally turned his back to the hoop and started walking toward his bench before the ball even went through the net.
Swish.
PHI 60 - THA 28
The final two minutes of the third quarter were nothing more than a boring, sad formality.
The Thai team was spiritually and mentally broken into a million pieces. The embarrassing ankle-breaking sequence had completely drained the very last ounce of fight and hope from the giant building.
Thailand started making completely unforced, silly errors. Bad, nervous passes went sailing completely out of bounds into the crowd. Easy, open layups under the basket were heavily bricked off the glass. The Philippine defense did not even need to press them hard anymore; the massive intimidation factor was completely doing the defensive work for them.
Tristan continued to smoothly orchestrate the offense. He finally subbed out of the game with exactly 1:15 remaining on the clock, letting the second unit finish the quarter.
Young Aiden Robinson came into the game and immediately hit a beautiful corner three-pointer right off a perfectly timed drive-and-kick pass from Carlo Bedia.
With ten seconds left in the quarter, Thailand had the ball for one last, desperate shot. But Kiet, their backup point guard, just slowly dribbled the clock out near the half-court line. He looked thoroughly defeated and sad. He did not even attempt to throw up a wild heave at the buzzer.
BZZZZT.
End of Third Quarter
Scoreboard:
PHILIPPINES: 65
THAILAND: 32
The loud buzzer echoed strangely through the eerily silent Nimibutr Stadium. The Thai fans, who had been deafeningly loud and aggressive just one short hour ago, were now sitting completely frozen in total shock. Some fans were actually already standing up and heading for the stadium exits, totally unable to watch the final ten minutes of this absolute massacre.
The Philippine team calmly walked back to their wooden bench. There was absolutely no wild celebrating. There was no happy chest-bumping or loud laughing.
Tristan sat down heavily in his chair. He grabbed a clean white towel and wiped the cold sweat off his neck. He quickly looked at the blue stats floating in his mind.
[System Third Quarter Analysis Complete]
[Opponent Total Points Scored in Q3: 8]
[Tristan Herrera: 25 points, 11 assists, 6 rebounds]
[Target Suphawat: 14 points (0 points scored in Q3)]
"It is a thirty-three point lead," Marco said quietly, sitting down right next to Tristan. His voice was completely laced with deep awe. "We literally held them to only eight total points in that entire ten-minute quarter. Just eight."
Giant Gab Lagman nodded his head slowly, his massive chest heaving up and down. "The Wall held strong. The Box perfectly worked."
Coach Baldomero confidently stepped exactly into the center of the team huddle. He did not bother to look up at the giant scoreboard. He just looked deeply into the tired eyes of his young players.
"Do you finally feel it?" Coach Baldomero asked. His voice was very low, but it commanded their absolute, total attention. "Do you finally feel the massive difference between playing basketball with wild emotion, and playing basketball with strict, cold discipline? Emotion always runs out. It gets tired. But discipline scales. Discipline lasts forever."
Baldomero looked specifically at Joco Palencia, who was greedily gulping down a large bottle of pink electrolytes, and Ash Galang.
"You two boys completely neutralized their absolute greatest weapon," Baldomero praised them coldly. "You essentially cut the head clean off the dangerous snake. But you must always remember this important rule: a dying snake can still bite you if you are careless."
He tapped his black marker sharply against his hard plastic clipboard.
"There are exactly ten minutes left in this game. Listen to me. The fourth quarter is not about simply winning the game anymore. The game is already won. The fourth quarter is about sending a very dark, very clear message to the rest of the teams in this tournament."
Baldomero lowered his voice even more. "I absolutely do not want them to score forty total points. Do you understand me? You will perfectly maintain the defense. You will slowly run the game clock down. You will execute the Orbit plays perfectly until the very final buzzer sounds."
Baldomero slowly turned his head and looked directly at Tristan. "Ace. Go out there and finish the job."
Tristan looked back at his strict coach. He felt the massive, demanding ego of Dante Baldomero burning brightly within him. Tristan slowly turned his head to look all the way across the court at the Thai bench. Suphawat was still sitting exactly as before, with a heavy white towel completely covering his head, staying completely, utterly still.
"It is already over, Coach," Tristan said. His deep voice was as completely cold and absolute as a harsh winter storm. "We are just waiting out here for the clock to slowly bleed out."
The referee loudly blew his silver whistle, officially signaling the start of the final quarter. The unbreakable blue wall of the Philippines team slowly rose from the wooden bench together, fully ready to deliver the final, crushing blow.